I think it was Vegas, or at least that was what was written on my arm.

I had the word "Vegas" written on my arm, and because it was written in silver highlighter, I could barely make it out.  Maybe a more accurate description is that there were silver letters resembling the word "Vegas" on my left forearm, and the countless black hairs that forested there made it a bit difficult to read.

Now "Vegas" could mean one of two things.  First, it might mean that Las Vegas was were I was heading before I forgot the who, what, and where of me. 

Or, it might mean that my dog named Vegas was somehow linked to all of this.  After all, I knew she could spell, because when I said that maybe it was time for a "WALK" — with each letter individually spoken, she would go grab the leash and a plastic bag in her mouth, plunk them by the front door, and sit, waiting.

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